


Territorial

by Jamaican Princess (Rocquellan)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, OMC - Freeform, POV Outsider, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocquellan/pseuds/Jamaican%20Princess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenneth was hot for the young Winchester he saw at the Roadhouse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Territorial

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the awesome alexisjane, cause she is in fact awesome :D

Kenneth sauntered into the Roadhouse after Daniel and William. As usual, the place was packed with other hunters equally at home there, cleaning guns, having discussions or just enjoying a cold one. It was a safe haven of sorts, closed to the public at certain times of the day and night to accommodate Ellen’s more selective clientele; them.

Kenneth and his friends had cleaned up after a hunt a few hours earlier and had decided to hit the bar for a little ‘R&R’, which wouldn’t be possible in any civilian joint. Those places awarded the opportunity for just _anything_ to walk through their doors, and you couldn’t hold a decent conversation about what matters the most since anybody overhearing would probably just call the cops.

“Yo, Ellen, hit us up!” Daniel shouted over the boisterous noise in the place to get the owner’s attention. She acknowledged him with a nod and they all took a seat at a wooden table in one of the far corners, vaguely obscured by very dim lights, just the way Kenneth liked it.

“So Ken...,” William grinned as they looked at each other around the small space, clearly relaxed while they rode the high from their earlier kill. “You did a mighty fine job taking out that werewolf. Good reflexes man, good reflexes.”

Daniel nodded in agreement and Kenneth grinned with pride. “Been blowing those suckers away for years now. Like I always told you, practice makes perfect?”

Kenneth enjoyed their little three man group. They were all good hunters, but the other two looked to him for guidance sometimes since he’s been in the business longer. William watched his entire family killed by a vamp nest and Daniel had to watch his girlfriend get bitten, then transform and finally killed by Kenneth himself before she could rip Daniel apart in the space of a few days. He was involved in both hunts and had taken the men in and coached them after their experiences.

“Hey, sorry, here you are. Three beers.”

Kenneth didn’t recognize the voice of their server, and while skinny hands bussed the beers between the table and the serving tray, he looked up at the kid serving him.

_Holy shit._

“Thanks kid,” Daniel muttered, grabbing his and taking a huge gulp.

William tipped the head of his bottle at the teenager and it took a while for Kenneth to take his eyes off the boy before him, who nodded with a deeply dimpled smile before walking away, a cute little mole tucked right on his cheek. Kenneth watched him, skinny and tall with a good hint of the muscle he’d grow into, as he walked straight across the bar to Ellen’s side, where she loaded up another round of drinks for him to deliver.

Hesitantly, Kenneth took a sip of his own beer, heat pooling in an area he hadn’t had too much reason to pay attention to in a few weeks. He looked at the guys and adjusted himself in the seat to offer his now straining dick some more room. “Who was that?”

“Who?” Daniel asked after lowering the beer bottle from his lips. “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Kenneth prompted.

“No clue,” Daniel answered.

Kenneth looked to William, who was eyeing the teen with a concentrated look on his face. He leaned in closer before admitting, “I think that’s Sam.”

“Sam?” Kenneth asked puzzled.

“Winchester,” William elaborated. “Met them and their daddy once a year ago when we split up for that hunt down in Wisconsin. They were in the same area as me, cleaning up another mess close by.”

“Winchester? Wow,” Daniel muttered. Everybody at least heard of John Winchester, the guy was like a living ghost legend.

“Them?” Kenneth prompted, focusing on the part of the conversation he was interested in.

William looked back at him and shrugged. “He’s suppose to have a brother called Dean, if I’m not mistaken. I think Sam is the younger one.”

Kenneth took in the information and stored it in his brain before looking around the bar, trying to see if he could spot anybody resembling the kid in any way. Physically, he couldn’t make a connection to anybody he saw, but when his gaze landed back on Sam he couldn’t help appreciating his physique and youth, the things that drew him in from first glance.

The teen was exactly his type and even though he weighed the pros and cons of hitting on someone like Sam Winchester in this place, he gave it some serious consideration. He didn’t look too young, anyway. Maybe around seventeen, an age he definitely could work with. It’s not like Daniel and William didn’t know he was bi, and would go for teenagers whenever the mood struck. But this was a Winchester, and he vaguely wondered if bending Sam over and fucking him raw would put papa Winchester on his ass. It’s not like he ever cared one way or another when he took teenagers to bed, but they were mostly civilians, people who he could handle, not the type that even the most hardened hunter might be afraid of. He looked back at his friends to see them watching him warily.

“You got that look on your face, Ken. You thinking what I think your thinking?” Daniel asked suspiciously.

Kenneth smiled, “Whatever could that be?”

“For once, I don’t think...” William started but Kenneth cut him off.

“Don’t care what you think, bro.” And with those words, he grabbed his beer bottle and slid out of the booth, making a beeline for the counter where the teen stood stacking glasses while Ellen went around the back.

If Kenneth was right, he hoped being a hunters kid made the boy unconventional, which means liking older men might be the kind of thing Sam Winchester was into. Maybe. Hopefully.

One way to find out, aint there?

The bar wasn’t crowded and most of the people there were far enough away, minding their own business for Kenneth to feel like he had enough privacy to try and tempt the kid. He put his empty bottle on the table and held it out to Sam, who had his back turned at him.

“Hey, another one.”

Sam turned around to regard him and Kenneth could make out the deep set of his hazel eyes in the brighter light. He was stunningly attractive, broad shouldered and lanky, pushing all the right buttons for Kenneth.

As Sam took the bottle, he simultaneously put forth a new one, using the opener to flip the top and Kenneth murmured lowly, “How about you and me meet up a little later? I have something I want to talk to you about.”

Sam’s face scrunched up cutely in thought. He knew Sam had to know his intentions if he was smart, so he gave him time to ponder over the request.

“Sam, honey! Get two crates of malt from the back for me, will ya?” Ellen asked, suddenly sidling up to the counter and hurrying the boy towards the back.

Kenneth watched him leave before eyeing Ellen. She had both hands braced on the counter, a bar rag on her shoulder and a smarmy smile on her face, like she knew, could spot a come on a mile away and wanted to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.

Kenneth hated cock blockers.

“Anything I can help you with, Ken?” She asked, fake pleased, like a mother hen protecting her chick.

Kenneth just grabbed his beer and walked away. He wasn’t afraid of Ellen. She was a nuisance, but he didn’t find her as scary as some. He was making his way his way over to his table when a thought struck him. The crates were at the back of the establishment. If he played his cards right, he could be with Sam Winchester out there, alone, coercing him into a one night stand.

Yeah, sounds like a plan. Kenneth made a beeline straight for the front door after questioning gazes from his friends, and headed to where he knew Ellen stored some of her liquor.

Kenneth had high hopes and high expectations That things were going to go his way. There was a small smile on his face while he casually made his way around back in the dark, his shoes scuffing in the dirt to alert his presence. He was a hunter and you don’t sneak up on other hunters. It was foolish at best.

Kenneth was feeling good about the situation and his eyes adjusted to the dark pretty quickly. He was expecting to see the boy under the single fluorescent light bulb right over the back door that gave a harsh yellow glow to the immediate area; stacks of crates and boxes, some empty, some not. But what he saw made him falter in his next step, stop short and hold his breath. It was Sam Winchester, exactly how he wanted to have him, pinned against the wall, getting his cock stroked while he panted and groaned, the look in his eyes smoldering and hot.

It was one of the many ways Kenneth fantasized having Sam Winchester, but he had no clue who the guy was that was pinning him; solid, broad with short cut hair, dominating the youngster. For a moment the green eyed monster raised its ugly head and he felt like butting in, but his gut instinct told him to hold back, keep his distance and his gut hadn’t let him down so far. He’d learnt early on to trust it.

“Stop it,” Sam moaned breathily and it shot straight to Kenneth’s dick, his voice a sexy combination of boyish and pleading, while his sizable cock was fisted in the strong grip of the other man, his other hand gripping Sam's jaw tight, keeping his gaze focused on him. “Any-anybody can see us here...”

“I know,” the other guy shot back, his eyes dark and gaze cold as he looked straight at Kenneth in the darkness, making his point with that look alone.

Unknown guy’s voice was a deep growl as he spat, “I want to mark my territory, Sammy, ‘cause it seems other people didn’t get the memo that you belong to me; your ass is _mine_.”

Kenneth almost flinched at the conviction in that one word.

“Dean, please...”

“Please what, Sammy?”

“I...I’m gonna come,” Sam moaned, his voice wrecked, his hands scrabbling for purchase against the guy’s jacket, arm, hips and shoulders. Kenneth could tell the teen was used to the rough treatment, was getting off on it. If he didn’t see it for himself, he would cry abuse.

But...did he say Dean? As in, his brother Dean?

“Somebody always thinking they can have this body, Sammy,” Dean growled fiercely. Without breaking contact, he shoved his hand down and back, causing Sammy to arch his back bowstring tight, his eyes wild and those perfect lips opening while his throat worked to hold back what would be an impressive moan.

“D-Dean, I-I don’t...”

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean spat, crowding into Sam even further while his fingers sped up and Sam lifted a foot around his brother’s waist, angling himself for better friction. Kenneth’s dick was harder than granite at the sight.

“Gonna fill your ass with so much come, they’ll smell me on you from a mile away.”

It was all for Kenneth, this display of dominance and authority and he knew it. Big brother called the shots.

“I wanna come, Dean, please!” Sam whined.

“You can come whenever you want, little brother,” Dean instructed, his eyes lust filled and challenging as he kept staring at Kenneth. Daring him to do or say anything, to make a fuss; to try and stop him from claiming what was his.

“Oh fuck. Jesus Christ, Dean...” Sam was bucking wildly into his brother’s fist trying to catch his mouth for a kiss that Dean was holding back on, like a punishment of sorts while his hand sped up to a bruising pace.

“P-please?” Sam whined, guttural and deep and wrecked, and that’s when Dean finally took his eyes off Kenneth and focused on his brother, eyes softening as he murmured, “I gotcha, Sammy. I gotcha.”

And then they kissed; soul stealing and breath stopping and it was the catalyst that pushed the younger Winchester over the edge, causing him to spill right there and then, body jerking while Dean held him and Kenneth knew when to give up the battle. He’d lost before he’d even begun.

The two of them stood there, leaning into each other and breathing in each other’s air while they clung to each other. Kenneth took a long pull from his beer before walking away. Maybe John Winchester would have been better to deal with than this psycho of a guy who bed his own brother.

Kenneth snorted as he walked back to the bar; who was he to judge? He’d seen worse. And though he’d never admit it, he’d done it too.


End file.
